


What Little Boys Are Made Of

by Wolfsbride



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Animal Transformation, F/M, Gen, Older Woman/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 19:43:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/pseuds/Wolfsbride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q means well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Little Boys Are Made Of

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Persiflage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/gifts), [tayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Spies and Assassins](https://archiveofourown.org/works/987088) by [Persiflage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage). 



“Moneypenny!”

M’s voice blares through Eve’s intercom at a crucial moment, startling her so badly it causes her to erase several sentences rather than the one word she was aiming for. 

“Shit.” Pausing a moment to save, Eve then gives her boss her full attention. “Yes ma’am?”

“Where the hell is Bond? He was supposed to be in my office half an hour ago to report!”

“He probably stopped off at Q division, ma’am. I’ll ring down and hurry him along.”

“You do that. And inform me when his Majesty deigns to favour us with his presence.”

M closes the intercom but not before Eve hears her mutter. “If he’s bothering the girls in Q division again, I’ll chop off his hands.”

Eve bites her lip to keep in a laugh and then picks up the phone to contact Q.

“Q. Is Bond with you? He’s late for his meeting with M and she is rather irate.”

There is a long pause.

“Q?” Eve taps the phone to make sure it’s working. “Q?”

After another few seconds, there’s the sound of a deep inhalation. 

“Bond is… indisposed at the moment.”

Eve’s eyebrows rise. “Indisposed in what way? Q, if you’re covering for him so he can make out with one of your girls…”

“What? No! You know I would never condone such behaviour!”

“Alright, I’m sorry. Anyway, tell him to un-indispose himself and get the hell up here before M goes on the warpath.”

“Um. Yes. Well. You see that’s going to be a bit difficult.”

Eve pulls the phone away from her ear and eyes it suspiciously. When she replaces it and speaks again, her tone is cold. “What did you do, Q?”

“Nothing! Nothing!” Q laughs nervously. “Just a little accident. Easily fixed. Just… Stall her.”

“Stall h…” The line goes dead.

Displaying ninja like skills, M appears suddenly at Eve’s side. “Stall whom?” The temperature of the room drops several degrees.

Eve barely represses a squeak and fumbles her phone, nearly dropping it. “Ma’am! Um. No one?”

M’s eyebrow rises and her mouth thins. “Right. I think I’ll just go down to Q division and see what’s keeping Bond.” She marches off before Eve can get a word in. 

Eve quickly hangs up and then picks up the phone again. 

“I told you I’m working on it!” Q snaps before she can say anything.

“Well, you’d better work really fast. She’s heading your way.”

“What!? You were supposed to stall her!”

“Hello! You have met our boss, right? Anyway, you have four minutes. Two if she decides to take the service lift, which she will because she’s pissed right off. Have fun!”

Now Eve is the one to hang up first. She goes back to typing up her report mumbling about idiots under her breath.

~*~*~*~*~*~

M steps out of the service lift and heads like a guided missile straight to Q’s office. Q’s co-workers eye her nervously as she strides past their work stations. Q is liked well enough, but not so much that they’re willing to run interference. 

She reaches the door of Q’s office and wrenches it open, totally ignoring the ‘Do Not Enter’ sign. Q’s colleagues exchange horrified looks. When she enters, slamming the door behind her so violently that the sign falls to the floor, they carefully back up their work and then huddle together, planning Q’s funeral. 

“Q!” 

Q stumbles out from behind a partitioned off section at the back of his office. “Ma’am!” He hurries forward, not wanting her to encroach any further into his domain. “To what do I owe the… err… pleasure.”

Bypassing the pleasantries completely, M glares. “Where is Bond?”

“Uh. Bond is… not here.” Q tries not to give himself away by fidgeting.

M’s glare intensifies. “Contrary to popular belief, Q, I am not an idiot. Lie to me again and I will _bury_ you. Now. Where is Bond?”

Before Q can marshal a defence, there is a thud and a crash. A blurred streak barrels its way from the back of his office. The object skids to a stop between the two of them and promptly sits on M’s feet.

“Woof.”

M looks down. Looking up at her is a dog of medium height, though from the size of its paws, M doubts it’ll stay that way. The dog is a glossy blue grey colour with a white chest that is remarkably reminiscent of a shirt and jacket. There is a ridiculous mop of blonde fur between two floppy ears that are perked in her direction. The eyes are a startling blue colour, a particular shade which she hadn't thought occurred in animals. 

“Q. You know the policy regarding pets.” The dog is now leaning against M’s leg and her tone is a little less frosty.

“Um. He’s not… a pet, exactly.”

M looks up. “Never mind that. Where is Bond?!”

“Woof.” The dog leans a little harder.

M looks down again. “James?” 

James wiggles and pants in a rather happy manner.

When M looks up again, Q backs away, fearing for his life. 

“You turned my agent, my _best_ agent into a dog?!” M doesn't yell. She doesn't have to.

“I didn't mean to!” Q holds his hands up as if shielding himself from a blow.

“Oh? And just _what_ did you mean then? Change him into a penguin to save the cost on tuxedos?” She would like to throttle Q, but James is still sitting on her feet and for some reason she’s loathe to kick him off.

“No! I… It was supposed to enhance his physical abilities. You know, make him a little stronger, a little faster.”

M squeezes the bridge of her nose and then spears Q with a stare – Level 11. “I don’t recall putting you in charge of building the Six Million Dollar Man. How many times, Q? How many times! No experimenting on the staff! Fix this, or I will wipe you from existence!”

M’s attempt at making a dramatic exit is hindered by the fact that James is still attached to her feet. She gives him a gentle push, in total deference to the urge she has to kick someone, namely Q. He slides off and then turns his head to look at her. 

“You stay here.”

She’s turning to leave when he whimpers. “Oh, for the love of… Even in canine form you can’t follow orders. Very well. Come along, James.”

“Woof.” James trots after her.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Eve gapes when M returns with her escort. 

“Not one word, Moneypenny.” M enters her office as though nothing is out of the ordinary.

James pauses by Moneypenny’s desk to sniff her ankle. 

“Bond! Get in here!”

Eve can only blink as James scurries away. After a moment, she picks up the phone and rings Q. “A dog? You’re getting better, Q. At least a dog is in the realm of real animals.”

“Oh, shut up. Is she still livid?” 

“Pretty much. Why?”

“I don’t think I can fix this,” Q whispers. “I mean…. I’ll keep working on it but I think it’ll wear off before I figure out how to re-calibrate the machine to change him back.”

“You’d better hope so, Q.”

“I know. I know.” 

Q rings off and Eve hangs up. “Oh, blast.” A surprise visit from Gareth Mallory is just what M doesn't need right now. She pushes the button on her intercom to connect with M. “Ma’am? Your nemesis approaches. I’ll try to head him off but you know how he is.”

“Don’t bother, Moneypenny. Six doesn't pay you enough to deal with him. That’s my job, sadly.”

“Right, ma’am.” Eve disengages the intercom and looks up to see Mallory looming over her desk. “Mr Mallory! What a pleasure to see you… unannounced.”

Mallory frowns down at her. “I’m well aware I don’t have an appointment. However, I only need to speak to her for a few minutes. I’ll let myself in.”

He moves past Eve’s desk and barges into M’s office without knocking. “On your head be it,” Eve murmurs.

M doesn't look up when Mallory enters her office. She doesn't look up when he closes the door to her office sharply. Her attention remains utterly focused on the report in front of her when he clears his throat. 

“M, if I could have a moment of your time?” 

Raising her head slowly, M pins Mallory with a look. “I’m dreadfully sorry, Mr Mallory. I was unaware we had a meeting scheduled.”

Mallory huffs. “You know we don’t, M. I just needed to speak with you right away.”

“About?”

Mallory straightens to his full height. “Bond.”

“Woof.”

Mallory blinks. “Is that a dog?” He attempts to peer around the corner of M’s desk.

“No. I’m practising my ventriloquism.”

“There’s no need to be snide, M.” Mallory scowls. “Though I would remind you of Six’s policy on…”

“I assure you, Mallory. I am cognizant of the rules.”

“I’m not so sure, M. Not with the way you let Bond run wild. Take this last mission.”

M stiffens at Mallory’s pompous tone. She’s about to respond when a loud growling starts up from under her desk. She peers down and sees James clambering out from where he’d been curled at her feet. 

He approaches Mallory, still growling, and M has to use all her skill to keep her expression neutral when he raises a leg and pees on the bottom half of Mallory’s right leg and shoe. Mallory stares down, an expression of disbelief etched on his face. When he looks up again, he glares at her, furious. 

As he storms out, she calls after him. “Next time, make an appointment!”

When James pads back to her and leans his head on her knee, she scratches his ears. “Good boy.”

James’ tail and bum wag rapidly.

~*~*~*~*~*~

M leaves work on time. This unusual change in behaviour is due to the fact that she doesn't want to keep James confined for several more hours. She eschews the car and driver for the moment in favour of walking. They could both do with stretching their legs.

She’s fully aware that both driver and guard are following her closely. She manages to enjoy the walk regardless, even though her own senses are alert to signs of danger. James walks peacefully at her side; making the collar and leash she’d asked Tanner to procure somewhat redundant. 

She doesn't consider it a wasted effort though. The last thing she needs is to be ticketed for not abiding by the city by laws. She’s sure Mallory would never let her hear the end of it. 

At least the collar is a breakaway one. If James suddenly returns to human form, he won’t be choked. There _is_ the issue of whether he’ll come back clothed or nude. A charge of indecency would be worse than a simple ticket. She decides to not to beg trouble.

M stops at a small restaurant tucked away among a line of retail stores. She leaves James with her guard, admonishing him with a sharp no when he tries to follow her. She rolls her eyes at the way he flops down on the pavement and sulks. Like man, like beast.

Inside, she orders a takeaway meal of salmon, rice and vegetables for herself and a steak, well done, for James. She’d pondered the matter of meals when she’d sent Tanner out but decided that having James change back with dog food in his stomach might not be a good thing. She’s not sure it’s any better to feed a dog steak but she’ll keep an eye on him and hope for the best.

It takes some time but finally her meals are ready to go. She pays and steps outside, handing off the bags to her guard and reclaiming James’ leash. James dances around her feet as though it’s been years and not a scant half hour since she’d left him. M’s lips twitch as she watches his performance. What she wouldn't give for a camera. 

Food acquired, M bundles James into the back of the company vehicle. Her guard sits up front with the driver. M spends the drive back to her flat playing with James’ blond tufts of fur. She hasn't felt this relaxed in years.

~*~*~*~*~*~

M watches James patter about her flat investigating things while she portions out their food. She’d thought about getting Tanner to pick up some doggy bowls but if the change was temporary – and for Q’s sake it had better be – she figured she could sacrifice a couple of her china bowls to the cause. She fills one with water and the other with part of the steak chopped up into bite sized morsels.

Loading everything onto a tray, M carries the tray into the living room and places it on the table in front of her sofa. She’s not sure whether James has retained his human mind or not but it bothers her to think of him eating from the floor. With his height, the table will be just the right size.

She goes back and returns with her own meal, pleased to find that James has returned from his exploration and is waiting patiently for her. She sits, puts down her own tray and clicks on the large flat screen TV. She avoids the news; she gets enough of that with work. She decides on a nature documentary and gives a little nod to James, when he cocks his head at her. 

James sniffs at the water and then looks back at her mournfully, giving a little whine for good measure.

M snorts. “I’m not giving you Scotch, James. Eat your dinner.”

James sighs heavily and then starts on his steak, nibbling on the bits delicately rather than a mad gobble as she’d expected. They both watch the program as they eat; M laughing whenever James barks at something happening on screen. James finishes first but waits until M is also finished before trying to climb onto the sofa to sit next to her. 

M glares. “You are much too large to be a lap dog.” 

Freezing, James gives her the full puppy eyes combined with droopy ears. 

M curses. “Fine. Up you get then.” 

James’ tail wags like a windmill while he completes his ascent. 

He settles down beside her, front paws tucked under his body and they both carry on watching the television. As the documentary continues, James casually wiggles his way closer until, at a commercial break, M looks down to find that he’s worked his head under her arm and is staring up at her adoringly. When he sees her watching him, he leans up and licks her nose.

M chuckles. “Smooth talker.” 

She lets him remain cuddled against her, rubbing her palm from his head to his tail. Occasionally she detours to scratch his side, and she smiles at the way his hind leg thumps against the sofa when she does so. By the time the documentary is over, half of James’ body is resting on M’s lap and she’s flipping his ears back and forth. 

M turns off the television and pokes James in the side. “Time for bed.” 

James leaps from the sofa and follows M around as she makes sure everything is locked up. It amuses her to see him poking the doors with his nose as if to make sure they’re firm. “My hero.”

He follows her to the bedroom where she gathers up her night clothes and to the bathroom where she goes to change. She slams the door in his face when he tries sneak in behind her. She’s not taking any chances that there’s a thinking man behind the doggy façade. James growls softly and slinks away.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When M opens the door to the bathroom to leave, James is sitting there, holding her slippers, looking hopeful. He drops them at her feet and nudges them toward her. Then he backs up and wags his tail hesitantly. 

M smiles and then slides her feet into her slippers. “Good boy. If you learn to bring me my newspaper, perhaps I’ll make you 00K9.”

James sneezes loudly. 

“Oh, you don’t like that idea, do you? Well, hopefully it won’t come that. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll be back to your old self.”

They both walk back to the bedroom where M makes up a sleeping mat for James just outside her bedroom door. James looks at it and then up at M. He tilts his head and yips.

“Yes, I know it’s not your real bed, but we’ll just have to make do.” 

James leans against M’s legs, peering around her to look into the bedroom. He woofs inquiringly.

“Oh no! You are definitely _not_ spending the night in my room.” When James barks again, M rolls her eyes. “Or my bed.”

James slumps to the floor, paws crossed over his muzzle, blue eyes gazing up at her pleadingly. The tip of his tail taps the floor sadly. 

M groans. “This is preposterous.” She turns and enters her bedroom. She issues no invitation but she does leave the door open a crack. 

James nudges his way inside. 

As she gets into bed, she glowers at him. “You will stay on the floor, do you understand?”

James turns in a circle three times and then curls up, tail over his nose. M turns out the light and lies down, pulling her covers up snugly.

~*~*~*~*~*~

M wakes in the middle of the night to the sensation of something rocking against her bare shin. It takes a moment for her sleepy mind to comprehend what’s going on. When she does, she flings back her bed-covers and kicks an amorous James off the bed.

“James Bond! Get the hell out! And if you _dare_ assault me in such a manner again, I _will_ not hesitate to have you _neutered_!” 

James picks himself up from where he’d crashed to the floor and beats a hasty retreat.

“Without anesthesia!” She yells after him. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

When M leaves her bedroom the next morning, dressing gown securely closed, she sees that there has been no change to James’ state of being. He crawls toward her from wherever he’d been hiding, head down, ears flat against his head, tail tucked between his legs. He doesn't meet her gaze. He stops at her feet, well within kicking range, and whimpers.

While M reads people well enough, she’s never had occasion to turn that skill on animals. However, it’s not hard to imagine that this is as close to an apology as James can get in his current body. She sighs. “Fine. You’re forgiven. But I meant what I said about neutering!”

James sneaks a look up at her and then stands cautiously. He follows her to the kitchen, careful not to invade her personal space. He sits in the doorway of the kitchen, watching her prepare their breakfast. M looks over at him and frowns.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, James! Get over here. As long as you refrain from raping my leg, all will be well.”

He moves toward her, more restrained than usual and leans against her legs. She leans down and pets his head. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

M unsnaps James’ collar and leash as soon as they enter HQ. She’s not overly worried about him getting lost in the building. She has a feeling he won’t stray too far from her side. 

Instead of heading directly to her office, she decides to stop at Q division. The technicians freeze as soon as she enters and breathe sighs of relief when she passes them by. They look around at each other, guilt plain in their expressions. They’re glad they’re not the focus of her ire.

Q jumps when the door to his office is flung open. It’s not like he wasn't expecting her; he just wishes it wasn't so soon. He runs a hand through his already disheveled hair and tries to straighten his clothes. He’d spent the night tinkering with the machine but since he didn't know what went wrong in the first place; it was hard to theorize outward. He turns to face M, marshaling his courage.

“Do I take your rumpled attire and bedraggled appearance to mean you've spent the night trying and failing to find a way of changing Bond back?” 

Q swallows. That was her _you are an idiot_ tone. He’s never had it directed at him before. “Yes ma’am.”

“Do you have any idea the position you have put me in, Q? Suppose we have a crisis? What am I to do? Send Bond to bark at them? Yes, we have other 00s, but let’s be honest, it would take two of our other agents to accomplish what Bond does.”

At her feet James’ looks up and gives a pleased yip.

“You will forget you heard that, James.”

James’ ears droop.

“And God forbid that the change is permanent! Imagine having to explain _that_ to the PM. “Sorry, Sir, but we've changed our best investment into a dog! You keep telling everyone what a genius you are. You might try thinking things through once in a while, Q! You’re lucky I don’t use that machine of yours to turn you into a bug so I can squash you!”

Duly chastened, Q doesn't even try to defend himself. She’s right of course. It was stupid of him to have proceeded without proper testing.

M breathes deeply. “I suppose you have no idea when you might be able to change Bond back or even when he might revert back on his own.”

“No ma’am.” Q bites off the apologies desperately trying to escape his mouth. He knows they would just make things worse.

“Well. I suppose we’ll just have to hope that either it wears off or you figure out what went wrong.” M glares. “If Bond ends up stuck this way, you _will_ regret it. Are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

When M leaves, Q slumps against his desk.

~*~*~*~*~*~

M works through the morning until lunch time and then, in a similar deviation as the evening before, she actually closes off the report she was working on and stands, shrugging on her coat, scarf and gloves. James crawls out from under her desk and stretches, yawning widely as he does so. He fetches his leash and collar and she snaps them on before leading him out of her office. 

Moneypenny is closing down her computer in preparation to take her own lunch break and she looks up, startled to see M actually leaving her office. “Ma’am? Is something wrong?”

M smiles. “No. I thought I would get something from the canteen and then go to Riverside Walk Gardens.” She lifts James’ leash a little as if to remind Moneypenny of why she’s acting out of the norm.

“Ah! Well enjoy your lunch.”

“Thank you, Moneypenny.”

As Moneypenny watches her walk away, she wonders if maybe having Bond as a dog isn't such a bad thing after all. M looks less stressed in the two days she’s been looking after him than she has in a long time. It’s too bad it’ll all go away when Bond changes back.

~*~*~*~*~*~

M and James, accompanied by her guard, wander slowly over the tiered grass terraces that are the focus of the gardens. They’d made a brief stop on the walk over so that James could relieve himself both ways and M has the evil thought of reminding Bond that she’d picked up after him the next time he causes havoc. She glances down at him pacing happily at her side. Assuming, he reverts back. Oh, but she’ll murder Q herself if this mishaps turns out to be permanent. 

The terraces are too low for her to sit on, unless she wants to use her guard as a crane to lower and raise her from the ground, but the cement border is a good height and she sits and eats her chicken sandwich and sips her juice. The wind plays with her hair and though it’s a bit chilly she’s well insulated so she doesn't mind. 

James brings her a pebble he’s found and she tosses it for him, laughing quietly as he speeds away, ears flopping as he runs. She can’t remember the last time she’s had lunch outside. It’s rather nice to be reminded that not everything is a crisis. She’s actually disappointed when it’s time to go back.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The afternoon brings Mallory with it. He once again bypasses Eve but when he tries to get into M’s office, he’s met by James, who stands just inside the doorway, barring Mallory from coming in. He eyes James warily. 

“Really, M! This is preposterous! You are in direct conflict of Six policy!” 

M doesn't look away from her computer screen. “Ah. Mallory. Meet our newest agent.”

“What!? Do you take me for a fool? That is a dog.”

“He’s working undercover.”

Mallory gapes, then storms away. James snorts and then bounces back to M’s side. 

Moneypenny covers her mouth to stifle her giggles and then gets up to close M’s office door.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The week passes and James remains a dog. M gets used to long walks, fresh air, laughter and a general aura of peace that she’s never had and hadn't known she wanted. She still holds out hope that idiot Q will be able to fix his mess but time is becoming crucial. They've been very lucky that nothing big has appeared on the horizon but the longer it goes on, the more likely it is that something will occur.

As she gets ready to leave for the evening, M stops by Moneypenny’s desk. “Tell Q that I expect him to work through the weekend _without pay_.”

“Yes, ma’am. Good evening.”

“Good evening, Moneypenny.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The evening finds M and James sharing the sofa as usual. His head is in her lap and she’s stroking his ears. His eyes are half shut in pleasure. 

“You know, I’m absolutely furious with Q for this but to be honest I can’t help wonder what the hell you were thinking, letting him use you as a guinea pig.”

James opens one eye and rolls his head so that he’s looking at her upside down. “Woof.”

“Oh, that’s your answer to everything. Come on, let’s go to bed.”

James hops down and goes to the bedroom. He waits there while M gets changed. When she returns and she slips under the covers, he jumps on the bed and curls up at the foot. She bids him good night and turns off the light. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

When M wakes Saturday morning, she’s instantly aware of a heavy weight across her feet. “I swear to God, James, if you’re trying to molest me in my sleep, I will neuter you _myself_!”

The silence that occurs after her exclamation is strangely weighty. There’s a cough that definitely does _not_ sound like it came from a canine throat. M sits up in bed to find a naked 007 draped across her legs. 

He stares at her wide-eyed and a hand twitches protectively over his groin. M blinks. Well, it seems _that_ particular rumour is true.

“How much do you remember?”

He clears his throat again and M wonders if he’s forgotten how to talk. Then his eyes grow even wider and he blushes all over. He rolls off the bed, flashing her with a very nice view of his arse and disappears out her bedroom door. M falls back onto her pillows laughing.

~*~*~*~*~*~

By the time she’s dressed and making breakfast, Bond is still hiding in her guest room. She shakes her head and smiles at his foolishness. She puts the finishing touches on the meal and then goes to her bedroom. She’d kept a couple of her husband’s suits out of sentiment. She’s sure they neither of them will fit Bond all that well, but at least it will be enough to get him from her flat to his.

She folds both suits over one arm and makes her way to the guest bedroom. She knocks on the door. “Bond? Are you going to stay in there all day?” She’s just beginning to think that perhaps he really has lost the ability to talk when finally he speaks. 

“No,” He says dourly. “I’m going to kill Q and then throw myself off Vauxhall Bridge.”

M rolls her eyes. His embarrassment is palpable. “Take a number and get in line, 007. Now then. I’m coming in with some clothes.” She gives him a minute and then opens the door.

When she enters, she finds him under the covers. He avoids looking at her. She smiles when she notices his ears are still pink. She lays the suits down on the end of the bed. “I’ll leave you to it. And Bond, I’ll miss having someone to fetch my slippers.” 

That gets a reaction. His head jerks up and he throws her a dirty look. She chuckles gleefully as she leaves the room. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

She’s reheating breakfast when Bond finally joins her in the kitchen. She turns to look at him and he stands awkwardly under her gaze. As she’d thought, the suit fits badly. It’s too tight across the shoulders, too short in the sleeves and trousers. But it covers and that’s enough. 

“Can you sit in that? Or will that put you on display again?” 

She almost giggles at the way he blushes once more. It’s absurd. She feels quite giddy.

When he continues to stand, staring at her with an odd look on his face, she begins to worry. Perhaps she should get one of the Six doctors to make a house call. Or one of the psychiatrists. Or both. “Are you alright?”

Her voice seems to draw him out of his reverie. He shakes his head and rubs a hand over his face. When he looks at her again, his expression is shy. “You called me James. _All_ the time. You took me for walks and let me eat meals with you.”

She watches as he touches his ear. 

“You rubbed my ears.” His blush darkens. “I really liked being yours.”

A rush of warmth suffuses her. She’s relieved. She’d thought he’d been disgusted by the whole thing given his earlier behaviour. “It was rather enjoyable.”

M thinks about his confession. _Hers_. She knows he doesn't mean it _that_ way but if she’s honest with herself, the thought is both arousing and appealing. When he’s not driving her mad with his antics, he _is_ charming. He’s also easy on the eyes. 

After her husband’s death, she’d buried all her sexual urges. It had been easier than trying to find the energy to forge new connections. She wouldn't have to do that with Bond. They were already connected on several levels. A second later she’s chiding herself for her idiocy. As if Bond would want her that way.

She gestures to the kitchen table. “Sit.” She bursts into laughter when she registers what she’s said.

Bond scowls but obeys. He’s still a bit red around the cheeks. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

Smiling, M joins him at the table. “I promise to bring it up sparingly, Bond. When you least expect it.”

Bond puts down the fork he’d picked up only a second before. He focuses his attention on M. “Permission to speak freely, ma’am.”

M’s brows rise. “Of course.”

He’s quiet for a moment and then. “I know there are rules and regulations against fraternization but…” He ducks his head. “Do you think we could be friends?” The question is muttered to his plate.

Her breath catches. “James?”

He raises his head. “It’s just… I’d like to go walking with you without having to chase a stick.”

She laughs and he smiles. 

Reaching out, she touches his arm. “Would you like to spend the weekend together?”

His smile widens to dazzling and he nods. 

“Alright then. After breakfast, you go get properly dressed and then we’ll see what we can make of the day.”

Plans made, they both start eating. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

It’s only after the dishes are washed and dried that she remembers. “Oh! Goodness, I completely forgot.”

Bond turns from where he’s putting away the last dish. “What?”

“I ordered Q to work through the weekend on a cure for your condition.” M grins impishly. “Let’s pretend I didn't remember, shall we?”

Bond smirks. “Let’s.”

**Author's Note:**

> 5000+ words about Bond being a dog. I don't even know what my life is anymore. Hope y'all weren't bored to death.


End file.
